Something Left to Give
by Melika Elena
Summary: "Go back to your castle, Princess," Gale snarls. "It's safer there and I'm sure your prince will come to you eventually, because you sure as hell won't find him in the Seam." It's up to Madge to convince him otherwise. Companion to The Reasons Why


**Something Left to Give**

_A Companion to "The Reasons Why"_

When he comes upon the meadow, Gale is only vaguely surprised to see a shock of blonde hair surrounded by wildflowers. He knows she likes to come here sometimes, has been coming here ever since he first showed her the meadow all those months ago, but she shouldn't be there, not now, not today. Of course, he shouldn't be, either. He should be in the Square for the mandatory viewings of the Hunger Games interviews, but when he heard Peeta announce that Catnip was pregnant he felt sick to his stomach and he knew he had to get out of there before he truly lost it.

Granted, a part of him doesn't believe Peeta—that bastard has a penchant for lying and manipulating anyway—but his imagination starts to run wild with sick, twisted images of Katniss and Peeta together. They certainly would have had the time to be, what with the Victory Tour and the many hours of training before the Quarter Quell. But even then, Gale would _know_, wouldn't he? He would see the change in both Katniss and Peeta and their confusing as _fuck_ relationship, wouldn't he? And yet... there are too many games, too many lies for him to keep up with. If he's truly honest with himself, he highly doubts that Katniss or even Peeta truly knows what's going on in the grander scheme of things. He thinks that, Haymitch, however, _does _know what's going on, but is holding the information to himself, not even entrusting it with his valuable mentees. At least, that's what the girl in front of him once hypothesized.

"What are you doing here, Undersee?" He asks gruffly. "Shouldn't you be out in the Square watching the lovebirds?"

As he knew she would, Madge turns to him with a perfectly arched eyebrow raised. "Shouldn't you?" She queries coolly before turning back around, her hourglass silhouette facing him.

Gale halts mid-step. He doesn't know if he expected _that_. That ice queen tone is something he has _never_ heard from her before. Madge is always warm and friendly to him, even when he scarcely deserves it. Granted, he and Madge had not been on friendly terms for quite a while now—not since the first Hunger Games, really—but he did not brace himself for such a tart response.

Even though she cannot see him, he holds his hands up in a kind of surrender, something he used to do frequently when they argued with each other. "Easy," he says. "I think we both know why I can't stand to watch that drivel."

Gale can't see her face, but if he could, he would see the lines in her face tighten with sadness and a little bit of anger. So instead Madge keeps her voice cool and detached, although what she says betrays her: "I think the whole district knows why you can't watch it."

She waits for his anger—an emotion that Gale is most familiar with and which comes to him the easiest—and she is not disappointed. "What the hell are you on, Undersee?"

Madge does not turn and face him. She can clearly see in her mind's eye what he looks like: furrowed brow, stormy gray eyes, broad, tense shoulders leading to a tapered waist and clenched fists. He is angry and on the defense, like a trapped animal. She _hates _that she knows him so well, that she has made it a priority in her life of trying to figure out this man who at first glance seems so uncomplicated and clear, but in reality he's like the worst kind of onion: no matter how many layers she pulls back and discovers, she has no clue if and when she'll ever get to the heart of it.

"I'm not saying this to be mean, Hawthorne," Madge says and his last name feels like coal dust in her mouth, "I'm saying it because it's true. Half of the district is making bets on when you're going to punch Peeta in the face and the other half of the district feels sorry for you because they know that Katniss is going to marry Peeta Mellark one day—although, I suppose, with the Quarter Quell both are unlikely at this point."

This leaves Gale quiet for a moment. Had he really been that obvious? Maybe he was—he's never been really good at hiding his feelings, not the ones he feels deeply, anyway. Love, anger, they are bound together within him, usually since his love comes with an unfair price. "You really think they won't make it out of there again?"

His lack of rebuttal is something of a ceasefire and Madge gratefully takes it. She and Gale rarely push too far with their arguments but when they do, it leaves them licking their wounds for days—some wounds from which she doesn't think she'll ever recover. "I like to think that Haymitch has a plan," she says quietly. "Not that he'd never share anything with me, or anyone else in this district. But people underestimate Haymitch. He knows what he's doing. He wouldn't let anything happen to them if he can help it."

"Well, unfortunately, there's still twenty-two other people to contend with in that arena," Gale crosses his arms, and judging from the smug tone of his voice Madge gages that he's back to his regular self.

"True," she concedes, "But Haymitch knows some of the people going into that arena. Those are his fellow mentors, fellow friends. Who knows? At the very least, I bet he's bargained for some alliances, which will buy Katniss and Peeta some time, at least for a while."

"And what about the end?" Gale says so softly that Madge almost can't hear it. "What if it's down to the two of them? Think she'll try and commit suicide again?" Madge can hear the thread of anger and betrayal in his voice and it hurts her, too, on so many different levels.

"Don't worry," Madge reassures him, but there is bitterness in her voice, "Peeta has no plans on coming home this time."

She leaves Gale Hawthorne speechless. _"What?" _

Madge finally turns to face him, convinced that she is strong enough to look into the face of the man she's totally and completely in love with while he pines for their mutual best friend. Madge sighs. No one's a winner here. "Don't tell anyone, okay? Peeta has, as usual, a plan. He doesn't intend on coming home or marrying Katniss or whatever. He's going to make sure that she comes out alive and sacrifice himself for the sake of her and their 'child', which, I'm sure, is fake, and Katniss will conveniently 'miscarry' after the Games."

Gale just gaps at her, but then he scowls, resentment etched in his features. "What is that guy, a saint?"

Madge doesn't know what kind of reaction she would have expected from Gale, but the complete lack of decency takes her off guard, and this is when Madge erupts. Gale thinks he knows everything, but he in reality knows _nothing_, absolutely nothing. "Shut up, Gale," Madge says, and her blue eyes crackle, and it's like every golden lock on her head stands on end. She reminds Gale of Prim's ornery cat, except a whole lot more menacing. "Just _shut up_. I understand that you're jealous—"

"I am _not_—" Gale protests.

"I said, shut up!" Madge barks at him, furiously. "The kind of love Peeta has for Katniss is the most selfless, pure love I've ever witnessed. You know what he was working on before the Quarter Quell? A present for Katniss. A locket. On one side of the locket there's a picture of Prim and Mrs. Everdeen. And on the other side—" Here Madge makes sure that Gale is looking at her straight in the eyes because she wants him to understand, very clearly, what she's about to say. " And on the other side is you, Gale. Peeta is making sure Katniss comes home to _you_. Because he thinks that's what she wants."

"How does Mellark think he knows what's best for her? What she wants?"

Madge snorts in disgust. "Katniss doesn't even know what she wants," Madge says scathingly. She loves Katniss, but she doesn't think she realizes—or cares, that much—what her indecision is doing to Peeta and Gale. And Madge doesn't lie to herself—she's jealous. If she only had one person who loved her as much as those boys love Katniss, she would truly be the luckiest girl in the world. But she has nothing and no one.

"He's going to give her the locket at the Quarter Quell because Katniss is hell bent on having Peeta come home instead of her. Before you get all angry about Katniss leaving behind Prim and whatnot, I think she thinks Prim is well provided for. She has the house in the Victor's Village and enough money to never starve again. But I also think her feelings for Peeta are clouding her judgment, whether she admits to it nor not. Regardless, Peeta is going to give Katniss the locket to remind her what she's fought for in the last Hunger Games and to make sure that same fight is in her so she can come home again. And you might call Peeta's tactics manipulative and sneaky, and maybe it is, but he's doing it because he _loves her_—" And Madge is willing herself with all of her strength not to cry, "And he's sending her home to _you_. Because he knows you'll take care of Katniss just fine. Because he thinks he's inferior to you. Because he knows you love Katniss just as much as he does and he's _entrusting _her to you. So you may call Peeta weak and manipulative and a pansy, but Peeta Mellark is the kindest, _strongest, best _man I know!"

Madge is breathing hard as though she's run a mile, but she holds eye contact with Gale, almost viciously relishing the fact that he's falling apart in front of her, no matter how hard he's trying to hide it. Usually, Madge would help pick up the pieces, but she wants to let him fall apart like she's been doing secretly all of these months. Maybe a lesson will finally penetrate that thick skull of his.

Gale feels like he physically might throw up. Everything Madge said to him is like another punch in the stomach. In his heart, he knows that Mellark is a stand-up guy, even superior in some ways to himself, and that his love for Katniss is no lie or a means to an end. He's completely infatuated with her, and Gale is finally starting to realize the depths of Peeta's love… and the limitations of his own. Would he be willing to do that for Katniss? He looks back at Madge steadily, even though his world is crumbling around him. Would he be willing to go to those lengths for anyone? Gale feels like he would do it for Catnip, and yet… things aren't the same anymore. His and Katniss's relationship has been strained and awkward ever since she got home from the first Hunger Games. Maybe pushing his feelings onto her was like trying to hold onto something that wasn't ever there in the first place.

Gale shakes his head in resignation. "She's always been his, hasn't she?" He murmurs to himself, not attempting to hide his hurt, but he keeps his gaze resolutely down. "Right from the moment she shouted his name from the treetops."

Madge deflates a little bit. Her previous anger is gone and all she's left with is pity and understanding. "Probably," she tells him honestly. "Although I doubt even Katniss realizes that herself. She's never focused on love and relationships, just survival. But I think she does care for Peeta, even loves him."

Gale flinches at her words but recognizes the truth in them.

"I'm sorry, Gale," Madge sighs, trying to be comforting, "I know it hurts right now, but it will get better. Maybe you'll find someone else…"

Something about the way she says it makes Gale's head snap up. "Someone else?" Gale laughs and it's rife with bitterness. "Someone _else_? Like who, Undersee?" He narrows his eyes and gazes at her in contemplation. "Someone like _you_?"

Madge can keep herself from crying, but she can't hide her flinch. "What do you mean, someone like me?" She asks coldly.

For once, Gale hesitates. Their different social statuses have always been something of a sore spot for both of them, and something Gale liked to throw in her face towards the beginning of their friendship as a means to push her away. But she always stayed, never backing down until Katniss came home and he left her. It was like their short friendship never happened. They didn't argue about it, didn't have a fight, and Gale doesn't know if the silence that ended their relationship is what makes him feel so bad. She never questioned or cried or pleaded with him to be friends again. It was like she understood. It was like she was expecting it.

"Katniss might be Panem's Victor," he tells her, "but she's still a Seam girl at heart. Not you, Undersee. No matter what, you are, and always will be, a merchant Princess." The way he spits out the word 'princess' reminds Madge of the hissing sounds she's seen snakes make on television programs.

Madge, to Gale's surprise, looks completely unfazed by this. "That's the best you've got?" She snorts, planting her hands on her hips. "_Really_? Some grade school nickname that never really stuck anyway? Come on, Hawthorne, I know you've got better weapons than that." She stops, tilts her head at him. "Or maybe you don't. You know, we're not that unlike, you and me. Not in the ways that really matter."

"Ways that really matter? How about the fact that socially, you're the top of the ladder and I'm not even fit to kiss your shoes?" He spits at the ground in disgust. "Go back to your castle, Princess. It's safer there and I'm sure your prince will come to you eventually, because you sure as hell won't find him here." And he throws his arms out wide, gesturing to the meadow and the Seam and everything that Madge Undersee is not.

"A prince isn't someone with fancy clothes or pristine manners, Gale," Madge tells him, and Gale feels like he can see the gears turning in her brain, churning out arguments, "Maybe that's what princes were at one time, but that's not what they're meant to be. They're leaders, Gale. They serve their country with courage and bravery and dignity, and what you and Katniss do—you serve our district every single day." Madge swallows and remembers the scars that she is sure adorn Gale's back. "You are a Prince, Gale, whether you believe it or not."

Gale shakes his head and lets out another disbelieving laugh, but this time it's quieter and has a note of sadness in it. "A Prince? Come on, Madge. I think you're confusing me with Peeta Mellark. A guy like Peeta is the kind of guy you're meant to be with."

Madge smiles to herself a little bit, thinking of a warm summer's night not too long ago. But then she shakes her head, clearing away that memory. "Peeta Mellark? Gale, you couldn't be any more wrong."

Gale wants to be mad at her, but he is used to hearing this from her by now. "Well, then, Undersee, correct me. What's the right answer?"

"The right answer is, Gale," and she inhales deeply, and she releases the words that she never thought she'd ever get the chance to say, "that I don't want Peeta Mellark to be my prince. I just want you. I love _you_."

And it's like all of the breath in Gale's body leaves him instantly, because in a million years he never would have expected the daughter of the Mayor of District 12 to tell himthat she was in love with him. It was unfathomable. "You can't be serious," he tells her, sounding breathless.

He regrets it immediately when he looks into her eyes and sees her heart break. "I am," she says, smiling almost apologetically. "I'm in love with you and I have been for some time now." She begins to back away slowly, though, almost unnoticeably, like a wounded animal trying to flee. "But I know it's futile. You love Katniss. Peeta loves Katniss. Everyone loves Katniss. And that's okay." She straightens suddenly, chin tilted, and she is proud as she announces, "But nevertheless, I love you, Gale Hawthorne. I love you and I'm—I'm glad you finally know it."

Gale cannot stop staring at her, she is radiant in her confidence, and he cannot handle how brightly she is shining. _Love him? _ They barely know each other, how can she even love him? She's just imagining him as a prince—a romantic figure, a knight in shining armor. Not something _real_.

He is barely aware of voicing these thoughts out loud but then Madge's eyes turn hard and determined, and he is mesmerized because she looks exactly the way she did when they could fight with each other. "You think I don't know you? You think I'm shallow enough to love someone purely based on face-value things? You think I don't know your hands and your determination and you loyalty and your smile and your stubbornness—" She is beginning to cry now and the passion in her voice overtakes him, washing over him like a wave, "you don't think I know your shoulders and your fire and your views on life and politics and how you prefer action over words? You think I don't know or understand your love for your family or the pressure or the stress? You think I don't know what it's like to be left behind by someone you love or to feel so alone you feel like you can't breathe?" And her eyes are pleading with him as the blue runs over her face, "I _know _you, Gale. Maybe I don't know everything, and maybe I never will, but to imply that I don't love you hurts more than you not loving me." And now, she's turning away, she's about to run, and Gale knows that maybe he let Katniss get away, but he _cannot _let Madge do the same.

Madge is right about one thing, Gale muses, he _does _prefer action over words, so his hand finds her wrist, small and delicate, and he pulls her right to him, and he pulls his head down and kisses her right there in the middle of their meadow, wildflowers tickling Madge's thighs and swaying against his grey pants.

It's perfect.

There are still tears trickling down her face, remnants of her passionate outburst, but she makes a little gasp and her lips fit right into his, and unlike Katniss's, they're soft and moist and Gale can't believe he didn't do this sooner. His hand cradles her face and she clutches at his shirt, and Gale can feel himself start to smile, almost in disbelief but mostly with unexpected joy, that Madge Undersee is, of all people, the one person who could show him what real love might be like.

But love still needs oxygen, and they break apart. Gale wants to reach for her again, but Madge looks into his eyes and mistakes the surprise there for something else, and she backs away.

"No, Gale," she whispers, and Gale wonders frantically what's gone wrong. "I won't be your second choice. No one would want to be. Not Peeta, not you, and certainly not me." She darts off, sprints out of the meadow without looking back, all in the blink of an eye.

Gale wishes he had put snares in the meadow to catch her, but here there are only wildflowers.

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**Note: **Okay, so I can understand this is a little confusing in terms of how this story and "The Reasons Why" are linked to each other. Let me explain. So, when I wrote "The Reasons Why", it was supposed to be in the canon-universe, in which Madge dies and Gadge never happens and none of my dreams come true, blah blah blah, as is evidenced by the ending of "The Reasons Why".

At first, when I wrote this, it happens in the same universe as "The Reasons Why" in which Madge does eventually tell Gale her feelings (and Peeta will never know that she did and he thinks that Gale never knew, hence staying consistent with the ending of "The Reasons Why")- HOWEVER, I am considering making BOTH one-shots AU and writing a longer chaptered fic, set during Mockingjay, in which Madge is still alive and how she comes into her own as a character and a person. I'm fascinated with the idea that one person can make a difference in a chain of events, and I know that I, and other Madge fans, believe this as well.

But I don't know if I'm going to do this yet. It's a bit ambitious, and I already have two other works-in-progress from other genres that I need to get to. And I don't want to start something I won't finish. But...What say you? Should I make a multi-chaptered fic, or are these characters too fucked up for me to even consider continuing?

Let me know!


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